Brockhall: Book One
Prologue My name is Sable. I am the last of the Erudites, Lady of Brockhall, and have lived much longer than the longest badgermums ever have. I have been a Tabura, blacksmith, warrior, general, freedom fighter, mother, teacher, and friend in this long lifetime. I have outlived those dear friends I had back in what feels like yesterday. My story has been intertwined with many beasts, many of them being my fellow badgers. I know not who you are, where you hail from, and what purpose you have in the seasons to come, but I know that if you have found this manuscript written in Badger Runic, then you must have been intended to read it. Of course, I will have been dead by hundreds of seasons by the time you were born from your mother's womb. I hope you will come to realize that those far-off seasons that I lived in were ones of war, rage, and violence unthinkable, nothing like the ones you most likely live in today. It was what my brave and loyal friends, allies, and companions did, for the greater good, mind you, that gave you such bountiful harvests, peace, and happiness that you have today. Thus I begin my Chronicle, the Chronicle of the Brock, that is filled with tragedy, death, war, and destruction, but also allies, friends, harmony, and nobility. May you learn something from it. Chapter One Across the Cruel North Sea, a Carrack was seen trudging its way through the bitter waves. A cold eastern wind scored its sides, but the it kept moving. This ship was the Plague, which had originated from the Land of Ice and Snow, been traded, stolen, bought and inherited by countless beasts before it. She had served many masters in her long life, and always did as intended. Her captain currently was a pine marten by the name of Martimosa, who had stolen it by slaying its last captain, an old rat worn and gray from many long seasons of fighting a killing. He wore a smart royal blue tailcoat, with a red scrap of cloth as a headband. The ship was due South, to the Warm Country, as many beasts had called it. For many seasons, many conquerors and warlords had attempted to claim those lands as their own. But none ever returned. Some thought it meant they had succeeded, others thought that they had failed. This did not matter to Martimosa. He was young, and had much more energy than other beasts before him. He had much more support, as well as a much larger crew. He had more skill when it came to organization of attacks and raids than other beasts. Whether or not any beasts before him had succeeded or not was irrelevant. If they had, the marten doubted that they were strong enough yet to defend their territory or land. Even if they were, revolts were bound to happen, and they certainly couldn't be up to battling two armies at once. If they hadn't, then the beasts of the south wouldn't be prepared for defending their land, considering that nobeast had ever been there for them to fight. The marten leaned back and sighed, imagining his victory and life as a King, far away from the cruel northern wars of the rivaling wolverine and wolves in the Land of Ice and Snow. In the silence of the Great Woodland, a cloaked figure ran. The figure was large, but looked injured. It was revealed in the moonlight to be a female badger. She was carrying a young badger in her paws, with a bloody wound in her back. She ran from nobeast, rather against Time itself. The moon rose higher and closer into the middle of the sky. The female badger ran faster, seething with pain, she ran into a clearing. Near the center was a small oak sapling. The female badger practically threw herself on the ground. Gently laying the babe next to the oak sapling, tears ran down her face, and she wiped her eyes with a sleeve. "Dear Eru, you never told me this would be so hard..." she rasped through sobs. Swallowing the lump in her throat, the mother badger spoke: "Nutha Eru, muun te shain vyrne. Fath Nutha Eru, muun te shain vyrne. Sleep my babe, never fear, She will watch you, I know, my dear, grow strong, sweet babe, soon return here, sleep, sleep 'til the Dawn's light draws near." The mother kissed her babe on the broad white stripe down the middle of her face. touching it with two claws, touching the pads of the badgerbabe's paws. "B-be strong, my sweet, be strong. You must learn yourself what I cannot teach you. She watches you, She always does. Her eyes follow your path. You will be the last of us. It is your destiny. I want y-you to return here someday. It is important to Her Plan." she opened her mouth to speak, but found a lump in her throat. Tears streamed down her face as she spoke. "I love you, and you are my world, my Sable." The badger mother turned her head rapidly, kissed her daughter on the stripe one final time, and ran off. The badgerbabe, Sable Erudite, slept on, unaware of her destiny or the life she would grow to live. Category:Fan Fiction Category:Brockhall: Book One Category:Brockhall